MSRBMH Ch13

Ji Yanli lay on his side on the bed. If one didn’t look closely, they wouldn’t notice his hand tightly clutching his abdomen or the faint furrow between his brows.

Su Yu took a deep breath, turned around, and flipped the man onto his back. In this state, Ji Yanli was surprisingly docile, completely at his mercy.

He pulled off Ji Yanli’s shoes and tossed them aside, then casually threw the blanket over him.

Once that was done, Su Yu pulled out his phone, opened the browser, and typed: How to make hangover soup.

He had always lived a pampered life—anything he needed could be solved with money.

He never imagined his first time cooking would be for his mortal enemy.

The browser was efficient, instantly displaying numerous recipes. Su Yu clicked the first one and left the room.

He had never been to Ji Yanli’s house before, but fortunately, the layout was simple and open. He spotted the kitchen almost immediately.

The question was whether the fridge had the necessary ingredients.

The kitchen was spacious, but when he opened the refrigerator, Su Yu was sorely disappointed—it was nearly empty.

The only things inside were some frozen dumplings, likely prepped by the housekeeper.

Unwilling to give up, Su Yu rummaged around and managed to scrape together some fruits, vegetables, and a bit of meat.

Well, hangover soup is still soup, right? As long as it’s liquid, it should work.

Rolling up his sleeves, he prepared to showcase his culinary skills—until his phone rang. It was Lin Yanjun.

Only then did Su Yu remember a critical issue: Oh right, I kind of just abandoned them at Moonlight and left.

"Su Yu! Where the hell did you disappear to? We waited forever!" Shen Le’s voice roared through the speaker the moment he answered.

Su Yu held the phone away from his ear. "Why are you yelling? I had something come up and forgot to tell you."

Shen Le scoffed. "'Something came up'—was it Song Yanchu again?"

In Shen Le’s mind, the only person who could make Su Yu drop everything in the middle of the night was Song Yanchu.

"This time, it really wasn’t because of Yanchu."

Su Yu wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder as he rinsed the fruit under the tap.

"Either of you know how to make hangover soup?"

Lin Yanjun snatched the phone back. "You need some?"

"The dog needs some."

Shen Le butted in. "Dogs can’t drink alcohol, Su-ge. Are you trying to kill it?"

The two idiots had derailed the conversation again. Su Yu realized asking them was pointless. He muttered a quick "Whatever, I’ve got work tomorrow," and hung up.

Tossing his phone back into his pocket, he stared at the haphazard pile of ingredients, deep in thought.

He glanced at the first step of the recipe: Dice apples and boil them in a pot.

No apples.

Su Yu’s eyes landed on the grapes nearby. Close enough, right?

He dumped the grapes into the pot.

Step two: Add peeled oranges.

No oranges. Lemons will do—they’re both sour anyway.

For good measure, Su Yu also tossed in some bok choy, a bit of broccoli, and some beef as filler.

[I’ve got a couple of cigarette butts here, baby. Want to add them in?]
[Perfect. He was just drunk before, but after drinking this, he’ll be straight-up dead.]
[I know the perfect career for Su Yu—witch.]
[You guys are ruthless. Not me, though. I’d rather eat shit than drink this.]

Not a single comment was complimentary. Su Yu eyed the bubbling, multicolored liquid in the pot and leaned in for a sniff.

Doesn’t smell that bad.

Ji Yanli should be grateful he even bothered making this. Who was he to complain?

Su Yu ladled the concoction into a bowl and carried it back to Ji Yanli’s room.

The man was still in the same position, unmoved since Su Yu had left.

Walking over, Su Yu set the bowl on the nightstand and shook Ji Yanli’s shoulder. "Hey. Drink up."

No response.

With no other choice, Su Yu hooked an arm under Ji Yanli’s back and hauled him upright, propping him against the headboard. His head lolled slightly.

Su Yu grabbed the bowl with one hand and cupped the back of Ji Yanli’s head with the other, tilting it up before pressing the bowl to his lips.

As the liquid neared, Ji Yanli’s brows furrowed deeper.

[It’s time for your medicine, Dalang~]
[If you’ve never eaten poetry, try this. Afterward, poetry will taste amazing.]
[Nooo, stop! Are you trying to kill your husband?!]

The bowl paused at Ji Yanli’s lips, the rim pressing into his flesh, leaving a faint indentation.

His lips were pale, the pressure mark the only hint of color.

The mystery liquid dampened his mouth, but Ji Yanli’s teeth remained clenched—not a single drop made it past.

Instead, the "hangover soup" spilled from the corners of his lips, a few drops even staining the bedsheet.

Su Yu pulled the bowl away, scowling. He reached out, fingers poised to pinch Ji Yanli’s cheeks and force his mouth open.

Just as he was about to act, Ji Yanli’s eyes flew open.

Dark and intense, his gaze locked onto Su Yu, his brows knitted in a way that made him look dangerously sharp.

Su Yu startled, his grip loosening—Ji Yanli immediately slumped back onto the bed.

"You scared the hell out of me. So you are awake?"

"Mn..."

Ji Yanli didn’t answer. He just kept staring—watching as Su Yu set the bowl down, as he stood up.

Su Yu’s skin prickled under the scrutiny. "Hey. Are you drunk or not?"

"Mn."

"What does 'mn' mean? Are you mute now?"

Ji Yanli didn’t respond. Instead, he lazily lifted a hand and beckoned—like he was calling a dog.

"Come here."

Su Yu eyed him warily. "What do you want?"

Despite his words, his feet betrayed him, inching closer to the bed.

Once he was within reach, Su Yu looked down at the man. It was the first time he’d seen Ji Yanli from this angle—the sharp slope of his nose, the upward tilt of his eyes, which made him look less brooding and more like the eighteen-year-old version of himself.

"Sleep."

Ji Yanli leaned forward, burying his face against Su Yu’s stomach, arms locking around his waist like a vice.

Su Yu jolted, immediately trying to shove him off, twisting violently in his grip.

What does it feel like to be hugged by your mortal enemy?

Su Yu’s answer: Like your entire body is breaking out in hives.

"If you want to sleep, then sleep! Why are you grabbing me? Let go—fuck—let go!"

"If you don’t let go, I’m hitting you!"

Those words seemed to flip a switch in Ji Yanli. He lifted his head.

"Hit me."

"You pervert!"

Su Yu struggled even harder.

Annoyed by the squirming, Ji Yanli tsked, yanking Su Yu forward while falling back onto the bed.

Off-balance, Su Yu crashed down onto the mattress.

"Tch—"

His elbow jammed into the prayer beads around Ji Yanli’s wrist, the hard wood digging painfully into his skin. Instinctively, he retracted his arm.

Ji Yanli, as if anticipating this, tightened his hold, dragging Su Yu fully against him before burying his face in the crook of Su Yu’s neck.

Then, he went completely still. 

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